Chapter 41
But I couldn’t. Twice as long on the treadmill as usual wasn’t enough to ease my stomachache or cut through the nervous energy coursing through my veins.
I called him as soon as I got out of the shower.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Val. How’s your day going?” His tone was cheerful, boyfriend-like.
“Hi. Um, good. What are you doing right now?”
“Putting together some quotes and timelines for a few new inquiries.”
“You’re at the office?”
“Yes,” he drew out the word, a hint of suspicion in his tone.
“Are you alone?” I crossed my fingers. Jeremiah was often on site visits, and their administrative assistant worked from home a few days a week.
“Yes.” Word drawn out longer, notable suspicion.
“Can I come by? I really want to talk to you, and I don’t want to wait until later.”
Please say yes.
“Yes, of course. Is everything okay? Should I be nervous?”
“No, I mean, yes.” I took a breath. “Yes, everything is okay, and no, you shouldn’t be nervous.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of him. I took that as a good sign. “See you soon.”
I took the stairs up to his office two at a time. When I opened the door, he was standing in front of his desk.
I closed the door behind me. “Can I take a guess why you want to wait to tell Luna we’re together and you promise to tell me if I’m right?”
“Val,” he said in the same tone as last night—warning, dissenting. “I didn’t want this to be such a big deal.”
“But it is a big deal, Luke. It’s the biggest deal. I’m…” sick over it, even though I know I could just wait like you asked. I shook my head, took a deep breath, and steeled myself. I met his gaze. His deep brown eyes were a little confused, but mostly patient.
“I regret not saying this already so I’m going to say it anyway. I love Luna. So m—”
“I know, Val. I know you do,” he said softly, kindly, but not in a way that convinced me he understood.
“No, you don’t.” I took another step forward, staring into his eyes, begging him to really hear me.
“I. Love. Her. I love your daughter like she’s mine.
I don’t just love her because I love you.
And not just because she’s the sweetest, spunkiest, most incredible eight-year-old.
She’s not a burden. She’s not just part of a package deal I’m willing to take on so I can be with you.
She’s an enhancement. She’s—she’s…” I swallowed.
“Crap.” I was crying, and I wasn’t done with my speech.
Luke’s eyes filled, too. He looked up at the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. His tongue pushed into his cheek.
I closed the gap between us, inhaling another deep breath. I grabbed one of his hands, and he finally looked from the ceiling back down at me. “You know when I had that meltdown in the office, when Luna asked me to teach you how to braid her hair?”
He nodded, glassy eyes burning into me.
“It wasn’t just because I didn’t want to go back to my life in New York, or because I already had feelings for you and didn’t want to leave you.
I didn’t want anyone else to know how to braid Luna’s hair.
I wanted to be the one to do it. Always.
Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I love her just as much as I love you.
I know you think it’s a lot for someone to sign up for, but I disagree.
You two are the best package I could possibly imagine.
I’m sure, Luke. I promise I’m sure. If I think about missing any of Luna’s milestones, I feel sick.
“I know I can’t make you believe I’m sure. You have to feel it too, but I already texted my mom and dad and Drew and Natalie and told them I’m moving here permanently and asked Mimi if I could keep living here indefinitely, and they’re all happy for me, so I hope—”
His lips collided with mine. I didn’t even feel him bend down.
His rough hand pushed into my hair, holding my lips to his, pressing firmly before our tongues tangled sweetly.
I wrapped my arms around his torso, leaning into him.
I felt the tension leave his body. This kiss felt like the first one: unrestrained and passionate and right.
When our mouths separated, Luke dipped his head down to rest his forehead against mine.
“I believe you, Val. I didn’t know that’s what I needed to hear.
I just had this feeling like I needed to protect myself and Luna.
” His thumb traced my cheek. “Not that you’d ever do anything to hurt us.
But if she got used to you being around every day and playing a different role in our lives, and then you left for a job…
I’d hate it, but I could handle it—just weekends—but how would she feel? ”
“I get it.” And I did. I knew in my heart as soon as I stood up from that bench in Boston that I’d never entertain that possibility again. I didn’t get to be half there for them. And I didn’t want to be. I never learned how to do anything halfway, anyway. But how could Luke be sure of that?
“Why didn’t you say that?” I asked.
“What was I going to say? You’ve been through all this change, working all summer to find yourself again, recover from that fucking awful place you worked, doing therapy.
I couldn’t bring myself to lob in—hey, just a reminder what a massive literal and emotional responsibility it is to take on a parental role to an eight-year-old little girl who, oh yeah, already adores you as much as I do.
It was too much, Val. I couldn’t pressure or influence you into committing to that.
What if it ended up pushing you away? I wanted it to feel natural, and I figured we just needed more time to get there. ”
Everything he said…it made perfect sense. My relief was a living, breathing thing inside of me. “I don’t need more time.”
“I know that now.” He smirked, and I knew what he was thinking. This was all quite dramatic of me.
“Do you need more time?” I asked him.
He shook his head hard enough that my favorite dark lock fell across his forehead.
Now that I was allowed to, I pushed it back.
“No. I was already there, that morning before you told me about the interview, I wondered if I could make it through three hours in the car without telling her. But then when you mentioned the job I had to come to terms with the possibility of us not just rolling right into this family lifestyle I’d pictured…
and finally allowed myself to want.” He gave me an earnest look.
“You’re sure it’s what you want? It’s not easy, taking on a kid. I should know.”
I nodded. My hands reached for his biceps, squeezing for emphasis.
“Yes. I want to shower every latent maternal instinct I’ve ever had right on her.
You know that feeling when you love someone so much you want to squeeze them so hard you fear you might hurt them, but the love has to release somehow? That’s how I feel.”
He laughed. A true, instinctual, infectious Luke laugh. I mirrored his joy and relief in my smile.
“I know that feeling. Come here.” He pulled me into his chest, wrapping me up. “We’ll tell her today, together, when she gets home from school, okay?”
A sob of relief ripped out of me, and I buried my face in his shirt. Pine and sawdust filled my nose, and that feeling like something was off, that there was some wedge between us, evaporated. “I’d like that,” I said finally.
He guided us to the couch, placing me on the end, facing him and leaning on the armrest. He sat next to me, as close as possible, and lifted my legs to rest across his lap.
I ran my thumb over his cheek. He grabbed my hand and kissed my palm.
“I missed you,” I murmured, not really sure what I meant. He hadn’t gone anywhere. We hadn’t spent more than twenty-four hours apart.
He reached his arm under my shoulder blades and lifted me onto his lap. I wrapped my arms behind his neck to hold myself up. Hands bracketing my face, he kissed my lips. “I missed you, too.”
Maybe we’d been feeling the same thing—that longing to get back to the emotional and physical connection we’d had before we got off course. Before I got us off course.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured into his lips, unable to meet his eyes as I said it.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby,” Luke whispered, palms running down my back, pressing me into him. Using my hands to push myself up from his shoulders, I shifted one leg over his lap so I was straddling him, needing to look straight into my favorite brown eyes.
We studied each other, breaths mingling. I recognized the fire and longing flickering in those brown pools.
“Luke.” It was a breath, a plea.
The hyperemotionality of everything we just discussed was quickly replaced with hyperawareness of how my inner thighs felt straddling his legs, and of everything we did on this couch the last time we were here. His large hands found my hips and pressed me into him.
When our lips met this time, it was frantic.
I needed to be as close to him as possible, part of him.
Our tongues savored, our hands explored—mine plunging into his hair, his raking down my bare back under my sundress.
He used one hand to pull my head back slightly, moving his lips from my mouth to my collarbone, the skin where my shoulder sloped up to my neck, the sensitive area under my jaw.
Featherlight kisses of his soft lips and brushes of coarse facial hair were followed by swipes of his tongue and grazes of his teeth.
Desire filled my veins in an uncontrollable wave, drowning out everything that wasn’t me and him and this moment.
I loved how he knew exactly what these kisses would do to me—take my longing and amplify it tenfold so quickly my brain bordered on delirium.